


Not Alone

by rz_jocelyn



Category: Kamen Rider W (Double)
Genre: Complete, Friendship, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rz_jocelyn/pseuds/rz_jocelyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Spoilers for Episode 48. Set between Episodes 48 and 49.] For all that everyone teased Hidari Shoutarou about being half-boiled, he wasn't really one to show others his vulnerability. So, it wasn’t all that surprising to Narumi Akiko when he finally broke under the unrelenting weight as his nightmares encroached on his waking moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> The characters of Kamen Rider W do not belong to me, but to their esteemed creators. Enjoy~
> 
> Info: 
> 
> “Aibou” – Translated to, “partner”.
> 
> “-kun” – In the case of Kamen Rider W, Narumi Akiko uses this honorific to address the boys who are around her age or younger than her. Most particularly, she uses it to address Hidari Shoutarou, Philip and Terui Ryuu; therefore, it becomes an honorific that denotes closeness and familiarity as their friendship grows stronger. 
> 
> Takoyaki – A Japanese ball-shaped snack made out of wheat flour and typically has a filling of diced squid as well as several other ingredients.

Philip’s “death” was hard on everyone in the agency; made even harder by the way circumstance – a choice of their own making – had forced them to hide their grief. If everyone else thought that Narumi Akiko was being over-emotional and unnecessarily teary-eyed or if Terui Ryuu was being even more stoic and tight-lipped than usual, nobody said anything.

After all, aside from the sudden bouts of silence and the habit of calling out for a partner who was no longer there, Hidari Shoutarou was fine; all boisterous action and cheerful smiles. The crime rate had decreased drastically – crimes involving Dopant attacks and the use of Gaia Memory, and crimes involving the run-of-the-mill thievery and traffic violations – and Shoutarou-kun had become the new face of Fuuto with his dedication to his work.

If Shoutarou-kun – Philip-kun’s _aibou_ , and arguably, the closest person to him – was fine with Philip-kun gone, everyone else was fine with it too.

But, none of them were there when the door of the agency closed behind the back of grateful clients. None of them were there when Shoutarou-kun stood in front of the whiteboard – preserved and frozen in time, as if the owner had just left it temporarily and would be back to finish writing about the latest thing that had caught his fascination – fingers resting lightly on it, eyes unseeing. None of them were there on the nights when stifled cries – the achingly desperate pleading for Philip to _not be dead_ and for him to just _come home_ – could be heard through the closed doors of his room.

None of them were there the way Akiko – and, to a certain extent, Ryuu-kun – was; helplessly watching as Shoutarou-kun spiraled out of control, burying himself in his work because it was a way to simply _forget_ that he was now very much _alone_.

Because Akiko – and Ryuu-kun – could not fill the gaping hole that his _aibou_ had left in his wake; they had been W, the two-in-one Kamen Rider, and nobody could compare to that.

_Because Philip-kun was gone, and he was never coming back._

As the despairing cycle continued, Akiko wasn’t surprised when Shoutarou-kun finally broke under the unrelenting weight, and his nightmares encroached on his waking moments.

The case hadn’t been too hard – the investigation hadn’t even lasted a day – but the client had been so grateful that he had left the a token of appreciation along with the usual fee; a bottle of a homemade alcoholic drink. It must’ve been stronger than Akiko had thought – or that Shoutarou-kun was simply a lightweight – because when she returned from her grocery shopping that day, she found the bottle half empty and Shoutarou-kun sitting at his desk, completely smashed, his face tucked into the crook of his arms.

‘Mou, Shoutarou-kun,’ she grumbled, half-heartedly, as she dropped the bags on to the table, before making her way to him. Gently easing the glass from his hold, she was about to grab the bottle and walk away when a hand reached out and grasped her hand.   

‘Please, stay.’

Akiko wouldn’t have heard the words if she hadn’t been so near him; his voice soft and shaky. Turning to him, she was about to explain that she had merely been removing the bottle because it was clear that he had had enough to drink when the mild admonishment died on her lips.

The eyes that stared back at her weren’t the eyes of the cocky detective she had come to know.

They were the eyes of a child; wild, vulnerable and utterly lost.  
  
This was the young boy her father had picked up and adopted as his apprentice; wide-eyed and eager to please.

This was the young boy who had been forced to grow up far too quickly when his mentor had sacrificed his life for him; terrified and completely alone.

This was the young boy who had suddenly become responsible for a strange, new charge that circumstance had shoved into  his care; disgruntled and lost, but who was compassionate and willing to learn.

This was the young boy who had begun to open his heart up again after being hurt so badly; becoming a friend and gaining a partner.

This was now the young man who had once again lost someone he loved; who was reaching out to her because his mentor had left him, his _aibou_ had left him, and he didn’t want to be _alone_ all over again.

And, Akiko ached for him because she knew what it was like to experience a loneliness so vast and impenetrable that it made you feel alone even in a crowd of faces that were strangely familiar.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Shoutarou-kun,’ she whispered back.

Sure, she hadn’t planned on staying for long when she first arrived, but there had been her father’s death – she hadn’t wanted to leave until she found out everything she could about it; because she had been angry, so angry, and so incredibly heartbroken that her father had _died_ before she had found him, and that she wouldn’t even have _known_ if she hadn’t received those property documents – and there had been Shoutarou-kun – who was a ridiculously half-boiled wannabe detective and who had been spectacularly bad at running the agency. Then, there had been Philip-kun – who, Akiko was sure, would’ve died simply because he had forgotten that he couldn’t just stay in his mind database, even if his research on _takoyaki_ was more fascinating to him than the more mundane things, like eating and sleeping – and there had been Ryuu-kun – who was cool and hard-boiled the way Shoutarou-kun wasn’t, but who was also rough around the edges. Before she knew it, she had begun filling her room with trinkets that spoke of ownership, and had begun writing the agency’s address on delivery forms – for her other things that she had left behind before coming to Fuuto. She had begun staking her claim on different corners in the agency – Shoutarou-kun’s desk and Philip-kun’s whiteboard were off-limits, but everywhere else was fair game – and she had begun changing her routines around Shoutarou-kun and Philip-kun, who, in return, had also adjusted around her.

Somewhere between then and now, the Narumi Detective Agency had become her home. Ryuu-kun, Philip-kun, _Shoutarou-kun_ had filled in the gaps in her life where there had only been loneliness.

They weren’t strangely familiar faces as so many people in her life had been; they had been the faces whose smiles and laughter made her happy; the faces whose sadness and tears made her heart ache.

The faces she missed when they were apart; the faces she longed to return to because they were where she _belonged_.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Akiko repeated, her voice stronger, firmer, conviction and promise punctuating every word as she lightly held his wrist, anchoring him.

_Because this was where she wanted to be, where she chose to be, and she would never leave._

The smile on Shoutarou-kun’s face made her heart leap; it was a just tiny quirk of the lip, but it was _genuine_ and far brighter than any of the pale imitations that he had painted for the world since Philip-kun’s “death”.

 _Because Akiko might not be able to fill the gap that his_ aibou _had left behind, but she was still here, and she wanted to give him a reason to stay._

Maybe they wouldn’t fully heal – Philip-kun was irreplaceable – but they – Shoutarou-kun – would not be alone in this.

They would get through this.

Together.

 

~ OWARI ~


End file.
